


Just in time

by LibertineFlake



Series: Robo Suffering [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Whump, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Major Character Injury, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-20 08:54:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16133900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibertineFlake/pseuds/LibertineFlake
Summary: Hank lunges for him, maybe he can catch him, maybe he'll catch himself, maybe there's a fire escape, maybe-Hank is just in time to see him hit the concrete.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I maybe really enjoy hurt/comfort and watching characters I love get in a bad way. So here's some fresh robo-suffering.

Things had gone south very quickly.

Connor had run after the suspect, with all the energy and gusto of a Labrador being let off the leash in a dog park, leaving Hank trailing behind. It was nights like this Hank wished he exercised more, though that was a fleeting thought. Because fuck running.

He's running up apartment building stairs right now, wishing there was an express elevator in this suspect's apartment. He can hear Connor and the suspect, feet clattering on the stairs above him, looking up Hank can see a flicker of Connor's jacket rounding the next flight above him.

The clattering of feet fades away, the sound of a fire door being slammed open. Then there's yelling. Hank pushes himself to move faster.

Bursting through the open fire door, Hank is just in time to see Connor grappling with the suspect. He's just in time to watch the suspect push Connor back, Connor's foot meeting ice, the suspect slipping from his grip as Connor's legs go out from under him and he topples backwards, over the edge of the roof.

Hank lunges for him, maybe he can catch him, maybe he'll catch himself, maybe there's a fire escape, maybe-

Hank is just in time to see him hit the concrete.

He doesn't splatter as a human would, there's a crunching, like a car being crushed in a collision. Even from this high up he can hear Connor gasp, make a grunting sound, and then a strange electrical stuttering. Blue blood spurts from his nose as he lifts his head and drops it again as if trying to sit up. Blue blood starts to pool in the snow around his head, slowly stretching out around him like a halo.

"Connor, don't move!" Hank shouts, snapping back to reality, he turns and runs towards the stairs. He runs down three at a time, barely noticing how hard he's breathing, his pulse rushing in his ears. He doesn't feel tired any more.

The suspect is gone, Hank doesn't care.

The flight down the stairs feels much faster than the flight up. Hank hurls himself through the front door, out into the snow where Connor fell. He skids to his knees beside Connor, looking him over.

He's shivering. Why the fuck is he shivering? Androids don't go into shock, do they? Hank knew they didn't get too hot or cold like humans did, though Connor had mentioned overheating could be an issue, but if temperatures were ever that high, Hank would already be dead.

But the kid was shaking, eyes wide and panicked and unfocused, mouth hanging open, blue blood running from his nose, trembling all over. Hank pictured electricity firing around his body, trying to get a reaction, to get him to move, to save himself, getting stuck in a loop and only succeeding in this strange simulacrum of a man in shock.

He's not breathing, but that isn't a surprise, breathing is the first thing to go when an android is damaged. But it's still unsettling.

His first instinct ignores what he knows about first aid, not moving someone in case you make it worse, and he finds himself grabbing at him, desperate to comfort, it's instinct, the paternal kind that never went away, even childless for years.

Connor looks shocked, scared, like he isn't completely aware of what's happening, but knows he's in trouble. Hank hauls him into his arms, his arm around his shoulders, resting him across his knees. He's not sure if he's comforting himself or the android more.

Hank lifts Connor's head a little, and the twitching gets worse. Under his hand, he can feel a patch where the hair and skin have vanished, leaving cracked and crumpled metal. He leans down, just to glimpse, and he can see a slim fracture, wires and lights inside, but they don't take up as much space in the skull as a human brain would. Thirium is dripping from the fracture, so Hank covers it with his palm, it's probably better that the stuff stays inside.

Connor makes a sound, and suddenly is spitting thirium. Hank thought he had seen it all, but now he's watching an android vomit his own blood. He rolls him onto his side, can androids even choke? 

"It's okay, you're okay, I got you" Hank muttered, uncertain if Connor could even still hear him right now, his head took a pretty bad hit.

Connor's white shirt is stained dark blue, he makes a sound that is somewhere between a groan and speaker feedback.

"You hear me, Connor?"

Connor's mouth opens, shuddering again before closing. There's a stuttering sound, like Connor's voice covered in static and then thrown in the garbage disposal

"Can you move anything?"

Hank feels Connor's hand squeeze where he's holding it, and he's not sure if that was another random twitch

"Do that again if you hear me"

Another squeeze.

"Alright good- fucking shit- alright we're gonna help you son- hold on"

He squeezes again and doesn't stop.

"I'm not going anywhere, I'm staying right here" Hank muttered to him, squeezing back.

"Alright, one for yes, two for no, got it?"

Squeeze.

"Is it safe to move you?"

Squeeze

"Can you walk?"

Two squeezes

"Do you know how much time you've got?"

One squeeze

"You got much time?"

Nothing.

Hank waited, and Connor did nothing. He didn't want to answer that question or didn't know how to.

"Goddamn it- fuck" Hank muttered "alright, we're on the clock then, let's get going" Hank's legs don't feel tired any more, he pushes the panic down, and hauls the android up into his arms and gets to his feet, trudging to the car. 


	2. Chapter 2

He's going eighty in a fifty zone and he couldn't give less of a shit.  
Hank has the phone on loudspeaker, and Connor slumped in the passenger seat beside him. He keeps glancing over at him, and Connor keeps forcing his eyes back open whenever he does.

_"Android repairs Emergency line, how can I help you?"_

This feels more like calling the emergency vet than 911, Hank hates the fear that still creeps into him every time Connor gets hurt, that androids like him don't get the same treatment as humans, even when CyberLife took responsibility for him, they thought it was easier to replace him than repair him. That shit wouldn't stand now.

"This is Lieutenant Hank Anderson, I got an android here, he's hurt bad, I'm on my way to you with him now, he's going to need help fast"

_"Alright, sir, what model is the android?"_

"He's an RK800, prototype model, I don't know if that means his parts are harder to find"

_"Not to worry, Sir. Has he lost much thirium, is he able to tell you what is system status is?"_

"He fell eight fucking floors to the side walk, he's not doing much talking right now"

_"We'll prepare a trauma bay for him, what's your ETA?"_

Not fucking soon enough. Connor made another choking sound, more blue blood snorting from his nose and running down his chin

"Fuck- stay with me Connor, nearly there" Hank reached one hand off the steering wheel, putting his hand on Connor's shoulder, partly to shake him awake, and partly to comfort him. Connor was staring at him, head lolling on the seat, brown eyes looking intense and exhausted.

He knew what he was telling him, he'd said it enough times, will to survive was one thing, but when you had a brain that could tell you exactly what was going wrong and how long you had, that was hard to fight back against.

He didn't have long.

Hank looked at the GPS, seven, maybe eight minutes away? His foot pressed harder on the accelerator.

"We'll be there in five minutes," he told the operator, before dropping his voice again for Connor

"Just hang on for five more minutes, son" he sounded like he was bargaining, eyes darting between the road and Connor "just five more minutes, okay?" he said again, begging now.

Connor closed his mouth, swallowing back thirium that threatened to spill out again, and moved his head slowly in a nod.

 

Hank barely even opened the car door before a swarm of emergency technicians emerged from the emergency door of the repair centre, helping get Connor up and out of the car, they had him on a stretcher in seconds, wheeling him inside, once again Hank was trailing behind. His legs burned like hell, he must have run a marathon tonight.  
They said something about a leak in his chest cavity, minor damage to his cranium, Hank didn't understand any of it, but it all sounded bad.

Connor had gone limp now, his eyes half-lidded, thirium dripping from his nose

"Connor, you still with me?" Hank said, touching his shoulder as he jogged alongside the stretcher. He expected Connor to lift his head, another hazy, drunken stare as he tried to stay conscious. But Connor didn't move.

"Connor?"

He followed them all the way to a diagnostics room where they stopped him, telling him they were going to start repairs right away, and he should wait

"Is he okay? He's not- he didn't react" he was still staring at the door where they had vanished through.

"Sir, we're doing everything we can"

"Is he even still alive?" Hank snapped

The technician in front of him gave that smile. That fucking smile.

_We're so sorry, we're doing everything we can, we can't tell you anything else right now._

They ushered him into a waiting room, tiny, filled with plastic chairs and ancient magazines.

He still had work to do, he had to call in the missing suspect, report the accident and injury, update Fowler. Hell, he had nothing but time to kill right now. But he had nothing but questions in his head, the biggest being _did he make it in time?_

Connor didn't look right as they wheeled him away, he couldn't figure out why. What was it that was so wrong besides him being immobile? He hadn't been breathing since the fall, but that was something Hank could understand. 

Then it clicked. What had been wrong just then, was that the angry red of his LED, flashing bright and loud moments before, was out.

 

Hank sat in the waiting room for an hour before he pulled the clock off the wall. He couldn't fucking stand the ticking any more, couldn't stand the urge to look up at it every three seconds. He pulled it off the hook and yanked the battery out, throwing it aside on the table among a pile of magazines.

It didn't make any difference, there was still a clock on his phone, and the fucking thing kept buzzing every few minutes with another update from the station. Other officers had taken over the pursuit of the suspect, they hadn't located him yet, but they had a trail. Hank wanted to give him a proper fucking welcome to the station when he got there.

Nearing five in the morning, the universe decided to be merciful, and a technician appeared in the doorway, telling him Connor was stable and ready to go home. He'd need further repairs, but nothing critical. He was safe. They'd made it in time.

Just like that. All over. Androids could be on the brink of death and then be just fine a few hours later. The whiplash wasn't lost on Hank, he didn't know how to back down from this panic under his skin.

He needed a fucking drink.

 

What would have taken a human months and years to recover from, Connor had managed in just under three hours. Not that it was surprising, but still androids threw Hank for a loop at every turn.

Connor was sat up on the edge of the examination table, still wearing his jeans and boots, his thirium stained white shirt and grey jacket folded up on a table beside him, he'd been given a plain white T-shirt to wear in its place.

"Hello, Hank" Connor's voice sounded metallic, distant even though he was right in front of him. They'd mentioned he might sound strange, his system was still running on low power, he'd be back up to full once his self-repair system allowed thirium to properly redistribute in his body.

Connor was glancing at him before averting his eyes, an apologetic smile on his face.

There were about a thousand things Hank wanted to say.

_"Hello, Hank?" That's all? After everything I just went through. Why did you run off without backup like that? I'm glad you're okay. You scared the hell out of me._

_I thought you were dead._

"You're a fucking idiot" was the first to come out, Hank didn't realise that was what he was going to say until he'd said it.

"That's fair" Connor nodded.

Hank grumbled quietly, pulling up a chair and sitting down. As much as he hated hospitals, he almost missed a hospital rooms amenities, android repair stations weren't nearly as comfortable, and that was saying something.

"I'm sorry-" Connor started

"No" Hank cut him off "No, don't do that"

"Okay."

Once again they sat in silence. Connor could think of nothing to say but apologies, and Hank couldn't think of anything that wasn't more swearing at him.

"Thank you" Connor finally said

"Don't mention it" Hank muttered, "just don't- don't fucking do that again alright?"

He couldn't promise that. But sometimes humans said things they didn't mean, to people who already knew they didn't mean them, sometimes things just needed to be said.

"I won't do that again" Connor repeated back to him, nodding solemnly. "I'm okay," he said quietly, affirming it to himself, and then looking at Hank. "Thank you, I mean it. If you hadn't-"

"Don't fucking do that either," he said sharply

"Okay" Connor nodded again.

Another silence fell between them, and Hank sighed hard, rubbing a hand down his face. The old Connor would have been asking about the suspect, would have been analysing every little thing that went wrong, unable to let a silence just be. Connor seemed older now, wiser. 

"You must be exhausted" he said

"You fucking think?" Hank shot back

Connor smiled "I'm tired too," he said, getting to his feet.

Hank almost expected him to be unsteady, but there was no sign of any of the injury he'd had just a few short hours ago. Connor grabbed his shirt and jacket, rubbing the back of his head thoughtfully. Hank stood, realising he'd never felt so sore and tired in his whole life, and Connor looked like he was fresh from a good nights sleep, ready for anything. Lucky bastard.

Standing in front of him for a moment, Hank sighed, relaxing his shoulders, before reaching out, dragging the android into a tight hug.

"Don't you ever fucking do that again" he muttered.

Connor squeezed back.

"Okay"


End file.
